You're a Wizard, Hershel
by AfghaniVeteranHedgehog
Summary: (AU) Hershel Layton receives a letter from Hogwarts on his eleventh birthday, and from that day on, his outlook on ordinary life will never be the same. T because I'm paranoid.
1. The Letter

It was Hershel Layton's eleventh birthday that day, when the snow from the last week finally tired itself out and every adult was out shoveling their walkways while the children used said snow to fight with other. Hershel would most definitely be out with the children of Stansbury, if he hadn't caught a cold just the day before. Instead, he sat in his room, occasionally getting up to use the restroom or to get something from the kitchen. Despite his claim that he was feeling quite alright other than his slightly runny nose, his parents wanted him to stay inside for at least one more day.

Around noon, while he was shuffling into the kitchen for some water, he heard his mother answering the door. "Yes? Oh, do come in from the cold." She said cheerfully as a near-white figure stepped inside.

"Thank you, ma'am." Said what sounded like an elderly Scottish woman, dusting some snow out of her hair. "I hope I haven't come at an inopportune time."

"Oh, no, it's perfectly alright."

"Well, then, I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Minerva McGonagall. I'm here important business concerning your son, Hershel."

A look of concern crossed Mrs. Layton's face. "I-I hope he hasn't been causing trouble. Though I do wonder how he'd be able to, what with his cold and all-"

"Don't worry, Mrs. Layton." Said McGonagall. "I'm not here to rat on him for anything. I'm here for a different reason. Is he home?"

"Yes, he is, but he has a bit of a cold-"

"It's okay, Ma." Hershel said, coming into view completely. "I was already up."

McGonagall glanced the young boy up and down, before reaching into her fur coat (the more Hershel looked at it, the more it almost looked like a robe) and handed him a letter. The envelope felt ancient, almost like it would crumble at his slightest touch. He turned it over in his hands and saw an odd purple seal on the back of the letter.

"Whatever is this for?" Asked Mrs. Layton.

"It's an invitation, for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." When greeted by confused looks by both Laytons, McGonagall said, "Shortly put, your son is a wizard, Mrs. Layton."

"A…wizard?" Hershel breathed, fingering the purple seal on the letter.

Mrs. Layton blinked. Once, twice, a third for good measure, and a fourth because she was completely and utterly baffled. "Wh…what?"

"A wizard." Repeated McGonagall. "As I expected, you were probably in the mindset that there were no wizards in the world."

"Well, yes, I'm afraid that I was." Mrs. Layton murmured half to herself.

"It's understandable. To be a witch or wizard in the Muggle world- that's our term for non-magical people- means to keep our magic a secret. As such, we've been, for lack of better term, hiding from Muggles for centuries, creating our own little world of sorts."

Mrs. Layton nodded, looking rather confused and flustered as she looked on as Hershel opened the letter slowly and began reading the letter.

A small smile played on the old witch's face. She too turned to Hershel, who, face scrunched in concentration, was skimming the book list. "…'_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _By Newt Sh-Sch… Scamander?'" Hershel looked up at his mother. "Ma, where are we supposed to get all these?"

"I wonder…" Mrs. Layton asked McGonagall, "Is there someplace we can get what he needs?"

"Yes, there's a place in London where such things can be acquired." The witch informed them. "I've talked to a wizarding family nearby, and they've offered to help you gather his supplies. I believe you know the Ascots?"

Mrs. Layton nodded, and Hershel asked, "Randall's family?"

"I believe their son's name is Randall, yes." McGonagall reached into her pocket and pulled out a watch, grimacing at the time. "Sorry to leave so soon, but I have another appointment to keep. If you have any questions, I'm sure the Ascots will be able to answer them."

"A-alright, though I'll have to go over this with my husband when he gets home…"

"That's quite alright." McGonagall turned for the door and opened it, half-stepping outside before turning around and adding, "Oh, and happy birthday, Hershel." With that, she left, and Hershel could've sworn an odd popping sound followed the sound of the door closing.

The Laytons just stood there a while, speechless, staring at the door after McGonagall, until Hershel took another look at his letter. "Ma?"

"Yes, dear?"

"…What does 'we will await your owl' mean?"

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><p><strong>Yea, I should probably be working on my other stories, but this AU needed to be done. I really hope I got everyone in character here…<strong>

**Oh yea, I'll be using all the Hogwarts teachers because I have no imagination. The only one I'll be adding from the Layton-verse is the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher (obviously). Next to nobody else from the Potter-verse will be in this. **

**Follow, Favorite and Review!**


	2. The Ascots

**Hello again! I just wanted to thank user The Mocking J and Guest for leaving a review!**

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><p>Once all was explained by the Ascots, Mr. and Mrs. Layton had warmed the news of Hershel's gifts rather well, fully backing his schooling at Hogwarts. The Ascots, when they first learned, were also quite surprised and more than happy to help him with traveling to Diagon Alley and King's Cross when the time came. Randall was just glad he could finally share his knowledge of the Wizarding World with his friend.<p>

About two weeks before term actually started, Hershel was awoken bright and early by Randall, who was throwing rocks at his window. As he opened the window, his friend's far-too-lively-for-this-time-of-the-morning-voice called out, "Come on, Hersh! We're leaving in a few minuets!"

"Wh-what!?" The boy shouted down at his friend. "But it's…" Hershel glanced over at his clock. It really _was_ almost time to leave. "I'll be right down! Don't leave without me!" He stumbled backwards, shutting the curtains as he rushed to get dressed.

When he was ready, he ran out the door with a rushed "We're leaving to get my school things and I have to go right now I'll see you later bye!" aimed at his parents as he joined his friend, breathless. "S-sorry, Randall…" He panted, "I overslept my alarm…"

"Ah, it's alright." Randall led him by the arm down the street. "Happens to the best of us. Except, of course, my mum comes in and practically screams in my ear if I'm not up in time, and you really don't want to know how that sounds when you're half asleep…"

Hershel winced slightly, having only heard Mrs. Ascot yell once, and that wasn't even directed at them… "So, um, how long will it take to get to London?" He asked, wondering if he should have told his Ma and Pa that he would be home late.

"Not that long, really." His friend kicked a pebble down the road a bit. "We should be back in a few hours, four tops."

"But, isn't London really far away…?"

Randall smirked at his friend, saying, "Oh, you'll see…" He was silent for the rest of the way to his house (although 'house' was a grave understatement), though the grin remained plastered on his face.

Mrs. Ascot greeted her young guest at the door and led the pair of boys to the main fireplace. Once there, she turned to a maid and said, "Please get someone to fetch me the flowerpot. My husband must have misplaced it again when he left for the Ministry this morning."

"He lost the Floo Powder again… Why can't he just leave it on the mantle where everybody knows it's there?" Randall muttered to himself as a small figure approached the woman of the house. It was Henry, the Ascot's servant boy and one of Hershel's friends, holding a flowerpot full of strange-looking powder. He tapped lightly on Mrs. Ascot's arm, almost causing her to knock the pot out of his hands.

"Ah! Thank you, Henry." She smiled warmly, taking the flowerpot. She turned to her son and his friend and asked, "Has Randall explained to you how Floo Powder works yet?"

Hershel shook his head slowly. "I don't think he has…"

"I wanted it to be a surprise." Randall stated simply, the cocky grin returning to his features.

Mrs. Ascot sent her son a look that Hershel didn't really have time to process, before reaching into the flowerpot and taking a handful of the powder inside. She passed the pot to the three eleven year-olds (Henry included), saying "You just take a bit of Floo Powder and throw it in the fire, shouting the place where you want to go loud and clear."

"Huh?" The young Muggleborn looked quizzically at the powder between his fingers.

"Here, like this," Randall stepped up to the fireplace, taking a deep breath before shouting "DIAGON ALLEY!", throwing the powder into the flames. Emerald green fire replaced orange and red, and he said "See you on the other side!" before stepping into the fireplace. After that, the green flames faded, and Randall disappeared.

"Oh, I'd better go in after him." Mrs. Ascot mumbled to herself before doing exactly as her son did and slipping into the unknown as well.

Hershel watched this unfold before him with disbelief and mild fear. What if he said something wrong and wound up in a different country? The mild anxiety built up until a soft tap was placed on his shoulder.

"Ah, Hershel…" Henry whispered. "Do you want to go…?"

"U-um…" Hershel nodded hesitantly, slowly stepping up to the fireplace. He cleared his throat, not-quite-shouting "Diagon Alley!" and throwing the Floo Powder into the fire. The green flames sprang up, and he glanced behind his shoulder at Henry, who gave him a reassuring thumbs-up and a small smile. Taking a deep breath, Hershel stepped into the flames.

The next few seconds were a blur. It felt like he was going insanely fast, but his actual speed was a mystery to him, since his eyes were squeezed shut. When he landed at what he assumed was his proper destination, Hershel tripped over a stone on the hearth and gave up trying to move from the floor. His head throbbed like someone was beating it with a stick, and stomach was doing backflips, making him want to empty out the non-existent contents of his stomach.

"Hey Hersh, you alright?" He heard Randall's voice from above him and arms try to pull him up.

"I'm gonna be sick…" Hershel whimpered, managing to stand on shaky legs.

"Wow, if this was your reaction to Floo, you're going to have a hard time with Apparation…" The young Ascot murmured.

They managed to get out of the way just in time for Henry to stumble in, a bit pale and disoriented but otherwise fine. Randall led the pair to where his mother was, and Hershel's jaw dropped.

There were people dressed in colorful and strange robes walking alongside equally strange stalls and shops. Owls dove in through windows and onto people's shoulders, cats sat on their owner's heads and curled around their legs, and a few dozen toads croaked somewhere in the distance. There was so much to take in, and almost all of Hershel's travel-sickness was forgotten just by the sight of what stood before him.

The ever-present smile on Randall's face became more prominent as he proclaimed to his friend, "Welcome to the Wizarding World, Hershel!"

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><p><strong>I sincerely hope that this chapter wasn't too confusing. If it was, my deepest apologies.<strong>

**Next chapter's the shopping trip at Diagon Alley! I cant wait to write it!**


	3. The Alley

The bright, vibrant colors of Diagon Alley were a stark contrast between the dark and somewhat eerie vibe of Ollivander's Wand Shop. The proprietor of the shop himself, Mr Ollivander, made the hairs on the back of Hershel's neck stand up as he roamed the shelves full of wands, muttering to himself as he looked for three boxes. Mr. Ollivander picked three boxes and handed them to each boy, reciting the length, wood and core of each wand inside and instructed them to "give them a little wave".

Randall's wand (Oak, dragon heartstring, 10 inches, unyielding) immediately emitted bright yellow sparks, prompting him to grin cockily and fist-pump. Hershel and Henry's wands, on the other hand, didn't do anything.

Mr. Ollivander snatched the two boys' wands away, muttering to himself as he found two more. It took a few wands for each of the boys, but, eventually, Henry's (Willow, unicorn hair, 9 inches, somewhat springy) produced a circlet of flowers that very nearly fell on Randall's head, and Hershel's (Sycamore, phoenix feather, 9 ½ inches, quite firm) summoned a bird that flew aimlessly around Mr. Ollivander's shop for the rest of the day.

After the wands were bought and paid for (Mrs. Ascot insisted that she cover everything the first shopping trip), they made their way over to Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions for their school uniforms. There was a bit of a line, so Randall decided to break the silence everyone was secretly hoping for.

"So, Henry, what House do you think you'll be sorted into?" He asked his friend.

"I'm not really sure, Master Randall…" Henry said in a quiet voice, politely refusing conversation.

"What about you, Hersh?"

Hershel shrugged. "I don't know the Houses well enough."

"You guys really are no fun." Randall pouted, quivering his bottom lip for emphasis. The pout quickly dissipated as the group burst out into giggles.

"But in all seriousness," The young Ascot began when he calmed down enough to speak again, "I think I'd either be in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, Henry'd probably be in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, and Hersh'd probably be the same as me." He smiled a genuine smile. "Wouldn't it be something if we all wound up in Ravenclaw?"

"I don't think that's really all too possible." Hershel said, grinning rather smugly at Randall. "After all, don't you have to be smart to get into that house?"

Randall punched his friend playfully on his arm. "In that case, I don't think you'll be getting in either!" Once again, all three boys started laughing.

"Ah-hem." The three friends turned to see Madame Malkin and another witch waiting by two empty stools. "Two of you can be measured for robes now."

"You two can go." Henry spoke up first. "I'm fine with waiting."

"Are you sure?" Randall asked. Henry nodded in answer. "Alright then."

Hershel was vaguely aware of someone else entering the shop, but was too fascinated by the floating tape measures to pay it any mind. Once his measurements were done, he stepped off the stool and watched the floating sewing needles stitch together floating fabric, and ran into someone. "Ah! I'm sorry!" He quickly apologized.

There were two girls, one with long, brown hair that almost looked green, and the other with glasses and shoulder-length ginger hair (who also appeared to be blushing). "It's fine." The brown-haired girl assured him. "First time in the Wizarding World, huh?"

Hershel nodded. "This place is so… magical, for lack of better words."

Both girls giggled. "It's my first time too." Said the ginger girl. "I'm Claire, and this is Brenda. What's your name?"

"I'm Hershel-"

"And I'm Randall, nice to meet you!" Randall interrupted, using Hershel's head as an arm-rest. "And the one getting his measurements done is Henry."

"It's very nice to meet you all." Brenda smiled. She and Claire were motioned over my Madame Malkin to the stools as Henry's measurements were finished and he stepped off the stool.

Henry joined the rest of the group as the finishing touches were done on the robes. Mrs. Ascot paid for everything and the four of them began walking out the door. As they left, Claire shouted and waved, "I'll see you and your friends on the train, Hershel!"

"Oh, um, see you too!" Hershel waved back, stifling a giggle as he saw the look on Madame Malkin's face as she tried to convince Claire to calm down. He noticed Randall was looking particularly smug as they walked towards their next stop. "What?"

"You noticed, right?" The young Ascot asked with a sly tone to his voice.

"Noticed what?" The young Layton responded, oblivious.

Randall sighed. "If you don't know, I'm not going to say anything."

"Why not?"

"It'll spoil the fun."

"Why would it be fun?"

"You'll know when you're older, Hersh."

"You're two months older than me, Randall. You're not _that_ much smarter."

"I'm smart enough to notice these things."

Hershel gave up trying to reason with his friend's logic after that. He had been his friend long enough to know that once Randall decides something, there was no use trying to dissuade him.

Their next stop was Amanuensis Quills for, well, quills. Hershel was confused at first, wondering why they had to use ink quills and not regular Muggle writing utensils, but he stayed quiet after the looks he was getting. After that, they stopped at various shops to acquire their cauldrons, scales, phials and telescopes.

The last stop was the bookstore Flourish and Blotts, where the three boys decided to "divide and conquer" (as suggested by Randall), each running to a separate direction and grabbing three copies of each book. By the end of the search, Hershel had nine books: three copies of _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_, three copies of _A_ _Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_, and three copies of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection_. Each book was stacked precariously on top of each other, partially obstructing the young boy's vision, ultimately resulting in him running into yet another person. The books tumbled out of his arms as he gave a hurried "I'm so sorry!" to the older boy in front of him.

"No, it's my fault." The older boy apologized, pushing his red-rimed glasses up his face and turning his reddish-brown gaze at the younger boy. "I'm afraid I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Oh, um…" Hershel began picking up the fallen books when he noticed the other boy still staring. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"What?" The older boy blinked and quickly shook his head. "Oh, sorry, you just reminded me of someone I knew once. But you couldn't be him…" He looked at the eleven-year-old. "What's your name?"

"Hershel. Hershel Layton."

The older boy smiled and shook his head again, much slower this time. "No, I'm afraid you're not him. Stupid me, thinking I'd see him again…"

Both boys were silent for a moment. "What's your name?" Hershel asked at length.

"Desmond Sycamore." The older boy smiled, tucking a book of what appeared to be fairytales under his arm. "Let me help you with those books."

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><p><strong>Wow. That was the longest chapter I've ever written. I'm probably never gonna write something this long again.<br>**

**Special thanks to all those who've favorited, followed, and reviewed!**

**Next chapter: The Hogwarts Express and more magical Laytonesque characters!**


	4. The Train

September first found the Laytons at King's Cross Station, where they were saying their goodbyes.

"…And don't forget to write."

"I know, Ma."

"And be sure to stay warm in the winter months."

"Ma…"

"And if you get homesick, I packed you some of your favorite tea…"

"Ma, I'm gonna miss the train!"

"Oh, sorry…" Mrs. Layton pulled away from her son, wiping a tear from her eye. "It's just… it's going to be so lonely when you're gone…"

Hershel smiled, reassuring his mother. "I'll be home for Christmas. Don't worry."

Mr. Layton stood beside his wife and said, "Be good now, Hershel. Don't get into too much trouble."

"I'll try not to, Pa. See you in a few months!" With that, Hershel turned and pushed his cart towards the wall Randall told him about. He broke into a run, going faster with every step, closing his eyes as he braced for the impact that would never come.

When he opened his eyes, they instantly widened at the sight of the magnificent red steam train in front of him. His attention was only pulled away when he heard Randall (who had gone in before him) yell and wave him over to an opening in the train.

Hershel pushed his cart over to the opening as he noticed that Randall was not the only one there. There was Brenda and Claire (who looked particularly happy to see him), both smiling and waving. There was also, to his surprise, another one of his friends from Stansbury (and his Randall's 'secret' crush), Angela.

"Isn't this great, Hersh?" Randall asked excitedly. "Angela's coming to school with us and we can all hang out and it'll be the greatest thing ever!"

"Yea, that'll be fun." Hershel smiled as he began trying to unload his cart. "Where's Henry?"

Randall gestured to the inside of the train. "He and Clark are saving a compartment."

"Who's Clark?"

"One of the friends I made within the past ten minuets."

"Ah." Hershel attempted to pull his trunk onto the train, but the sheer weight of it made it impossible to lift off the platform. Even with Randall's help (all the girls had gone ahead to the compartment), it would be impractical to expect to be able to do it before the train left.

A voice came from inside the train, "Need a hand?"

Hershel turned and saw who it was. "Oh! Um…Desmond!"

Desmond smirked as he stepped out of the train. He was already wearing his school robes, his green and silver tie glinting in the station light. The older boy grabbed the handle Hershel was holding. "Go help your friend lift it up from the other side."

Hershel did what he was told, and with less effort than before, they were able to lift the trunk onto the train. "Thanks again, Desmond." He said, smiling at the older boy.

"My pleasure." Desmond smiled back. Something clattered behind him, causing all three to look in that direction. "Those idiots… Please excuse me," He nodded a polite goodbye and walked to the other end of the train.

"Wow, Hersh, already making friends with the older kids." Randall smirked at is friend. "He's gotta be fourth year, at least. _And_ he's a Slytherin!"

"Is that a good thing?" Hershel asked, grabbed the handle of the trunk again, preparing to drag it across the floor to the compartment.

"In a sense." Randall grabbed the handle with his friend and began sliding it across the floor. "People who've been at Hogwarts for while usually have more time to learn the loopholes in the school rules and whatnot, and Slytherins in general are pretty persuasive. Or, at least, that's what my dad told me. He was a Slytherin too, actually, so I'm taking his word for it." He stopped suddenly to rub his sore arms. "Geez, what'd you pack in this thing? Did you bring your whole room?"

"I think Ma slipped some extra things in there when I wasn't looking…" Hershel mumbled, making a move to slide open the door that Randall pointed to.

"Like what, a sack of bricks?" Randall joked as the door slid open. Inside the compartment was everyone Hershel expected to see: Henry, Claire, Brenda and Angela. The only one there Hershel didn't know was a small brown-haired boy with an odd cowlick on the back of his head. The boy stood up, just barely coming up to Hershel's shoulder, and said, "Oh, are you Hershey?"

"Hershel." The taller boy corrected him. "And you're…Clark?"

Clark nodded, smiling and offering to help Hershel bring his trunk inside. Due to the slightly cramped space in the compartment and the fact that none of the eleven-year-olds could even lift it, the trunk served as a makeshift seat for Hershel. After a few minuets of aimless conversations, the train lurched forward and the journey began.

A few minuets after the train started moving, an elderly woman with a tray full of candy came by the compartment. Randall immediately bought a dozen Chocolate Frogs, Angela bought a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, and Claire bought a few handfuls of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.

Randall passed out his Chocolate Frogs, two for each person. Hershel was fascinated with the fact that the chocolate frogs actually acted like frogs, but was glad that they didn't taste like their animal counterpart. His first two Chocolate Frog Cards were Babayaga and Circe, two witches that gave him nasty looks and made him feel a bit uneasy looking at them.

Shortly afterward, Angela dared everyone to eat at least one of her Every Flavour Beans. Everyone ate them one at a time, starting with her. She popped the bean in her mouth and immediately grimaced. "Uggh, mustard!"

Henry was next. "This one isn't bad… I think it's blueberry?"

"I got a apple-flavored one!" Clark said, relieved that it wasn't disgusting.

"Ew, _dirt_!" Hershel spat it out into his handkerchief.

"Oh, I hate pears!" Claire coughed, her disgust clear on her face.

"Hm… bugglegum." Brenda didn't seem too disappointed.

Randall was the last to take it. He practically threw up. "Liver _and_ tripe!" He whined, coughing to try to get rid of the taste.

"Here," Claire handed him a bit of gum after popping one into her mouth. "It'll get the taste out." He gratefully accepted it.

Soon, she had passed the gum around to everyone, and practically the rest of the trip over to Hogwarts was spent seeing who could blow the biggest bubble. Brenda and Henry seemed to be rather good at it, blowing bubbles larger than their entire heads.

After a few hours of this among other things, a Prefect (as shown by his badge with a bright, shiny 'P' on it) knocked on the door and informed them to get dressed into their robes. This took a relatively short time, as everyone opted to just pull them on over their Muggle clothes, and they soon stepped off the train onto Hogwarts' grounds.


End file.
